


Instinct

by Mizor4



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Kissing, Oral Sex, Pokephilia, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 22:57:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18980065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizor4/pseuds/Mizor4
Summary: Instinct is a well know club where Pokemon and trainers can engage in debaucherous fun.





	Instinct

The brisk night air made it pleasant to walk, but now that Kyra stopped, the skin on her bared shoulders and arms began to prickle under the cool breeze. She wore a rather revealing tank-top and tight jeans that tried their hardest to show off curves she didn't quite posses.

A not-quite dingy but definitely low-key bar taunted her from the other side of the street. Instinct. Had she not been so preoccupied, her goosebumps might have been more from the less reputable area rather than the cold, but all of her attention remained on the bar and the few who wandered in and out of it, most dressed far nicer than herself, though with a trend towards the more revealing. Pokemon accompanied nearly all of them.

"You, girl!"

Kyra jumped, barely holding in a yelp and instead making a strangled gurgling sound. Her eyes grew even wider when she turned to see the woman who spoke. Older than herself, likely mid twenties, she stalked towards Kyra with an enviable confidence, hips swaying to make her dress dance. Perfect, straight black hair swayed with each step, melding into the dim light and black dress, slashed with deep red accents and split to reveal milky skin at belly, hip and thigh. Only after gawking for a long moment did Kyra realize a Zoroark waited patiently a half step behind.

"This doesn't look like the place for you, girl. What are you, sixteen?" Her voice felt like a purr, low and velvet but with the threat of a cat's bite.

Kyra's face nearly matched the red in the woman's dress. "I'm old enough to get in," she muttered. Those brilliant green eyes made Kyra aware of every movement, and she clasped her hands together to stop them from fidgeting, unsure of what else to do.

The woman chuckled. "And did you have to get your mother's permission to wear this out?" One of her red painted fingernails trailed half on fabric and half on skin along the strap of Kyra's tank-top.

The touch sent a shiver through Kyra, stilling her breath for a moment before the woman pulled her hand away. No, she snuck out before her mother could see what she wore. Kyra grit her teeth but said nothing.

"Go home, girl. This isn't a place for you." Her hand cupped Kyra's cheek as gently as she spoke. "And you don't want the other patrons thinking you're spying on them. You'll never get in that way."

For a moment, Kyra mutely looked into the woman's face, the skin on her hand silky soft and warm. Part of her wanted to obey and go home, but the rebellious, lonely, desperate part of her, the part that brought her all the way out here, protested.

Kyra pulled her gaze away and, unfortunately, the woman's touch as well. She did her best to bristle. "What do you know? I'd go in, I just need someone to vouch for me."

"And you thought you'd find someone by skulking across the street?" The warmth in the woman's laugh, the earnestness of it, only made Kyra more bitter. "Do you have a pokemon? Have you ever even had a boyfriend? Girl, they'd break a scrawny little thing like you by accident."

The poignancy of those questions hurt but only served to dig in Kyra's frustrated determination. "I'm not as delicate as I look. I don't care if it hurts."

The woman raised an eyebrow, once again sizing Kyra up. She moved so gracefully, Kyra couldn't imagine violence from the woman. Kyra heard the echo of the slap rebounding off the surrounding brick buildings before realizing her face stung in unison with the ringing in her ears.

Kyra locked up, not making so much as a squeak, her eyes down, body completely still. The ground seemed blurrier. And blurrier. Kyra tried so hard no to cry, not let the other woman see. She tried to focus on the thin web of cracks in the concrete sidewalk, the cute white sneakers she put on for tonight, still perfectly clean and new.

A soft touch, two fingers, tried to lift Kyra's face but she resisted. Eventually she had no choice but to let her eyes get drawn up to the other woman's, a surprisingly kind expression on her face. Gravity took the opportunity to drag the waiting tears down Kyra's cheeks. They stood in silence, the woman moving her hand to fondly cup Kyra's chin before gently brushing a tear away her thumb.

The woman spoke in a soothing voice. "Don't wear so much makeup. The pokemon don't really care and it will end up running no matter what you do. It's dark inside anyway."

Kyra nodded dumbly, not sure what else to do, her mind still uselessly blank, waiting.

"Give me your phone."

Kyra obeyed without hesitation, and the woman plucked the phone from trembling fingers, the glow of the screen lighting up her features, skin far too smooth to be natural, and eyeliner that faded from black to deep maroon. After a moment, the woman handed back the device, placing it between Kyra's fingers before she took it.

The woman stepped in close, smoothing Kyra's hair. "I want you to think very hard. Think about what your reason for coming here is, what you're hoping to find. Think very carefully. If you're sure this is what you want, text me tomorrow."

Without pause, the woman turned away, walking directly across the middle of the empty street. Kyra completely forgot about the Zoroark, his sinewy body nearly disappearing into the darkness except for his too-blue eyes. He watched her for just a moment longer, then followed his mistress into the bar, leaving Kyra alone and cold and still struggling to breathe normally.

\---

The next evening, Kyra stood outside a rather nice, if not gaudy, apartment building. The woman from the previous night had entered a number into her phone under the name Sarai. When Kyra texted saying she still wanted to go to Instinct, Sarai replied with an address and nothing else.

So here she stood, wearing close to the same as she had the previous night. She had nothing even close to the beautiful, revealing dress Sarai had worn the night before, and not for the first time she considered turning around and giving up.

A man opened the door and nodded politely to her when she reached the top of the short set of steps. Even he looked more smartly dressed than she in pressed gray pants and a navy shirt, which only made her fell more like a child. No one stopped her entering the elevator and she chose the sixth floor. The doors closed, and the gentle lurch upward left her feeling almost sick.

It didn't take long to find the right door, but she hesitated. What was she even doing here? Something stupid most likely, but lonely desperation led down strange paths. Kyra raised a shaking hand and knocked quietly on the door as if afraid someone might hear. If no one answered maybe she could-

Sarai opened the door wearing a loose sky blue t-shirt and gray lounge pants, looking none the less stunning for it. "Well you're tenacious at least." She turned back into the apartment, leaving Kyra to follow meekly and shut the door.

Dim lighting gave the interior an intimate feel, a large gray couch, half in shadow, sat before a large flat-screen TV. Red geometric patterns covered the black rug underneath the coffee table and would have been too loud if not half hidden in the low light. In fact the entire apartment seemed as if Zoroark had chosen the color scheme.

Sarai didn't say anything but started down the hall, crooking a finger behind her in Kyra's direction. The silence and suddenness of it all only served to rile up Kyra's anxiety, leaving her heart pounding.

A massive bed dominated much of Sarai's room, maroon sheets with a thick gray comforter, but a number of bright lights left few shadows. One corner contained a tall, person-height mirror next to an unadorned dark wood armoire. Zoroark lay curled up on the bed, large mane wrapped around his lean body, giving him an almost cute and fluffy appearance all wrapped up in a ball. He opened an eye to glance over Kyra when she entered.

"Strip." Sarai spoke like a trainer, not unfriendly but expecting obedience.

"W-What?" Kyra heard the command, sharp and crisp, but it came out of nowhere, the first word either of them had spoken since she arrived.

"Take your clothes off," Sarai explained with almost patronizing slowness, and when Kyra continued to hesitate, she added, "You know what kind of place Instinct is, right?"

Words fled Kyra's tongue beneath Sarai's brilliant green eyes, but she managed to force a slight nod from her stiff neck. A gentle flush started to work its way up her throat, bringing with it distracting heat and further embarrassment.

Sarai lifted an eyebrow. "And you're too shy to get naked with just the two of us here? I told you to be very sure of what you wanted, girl." She managed to put so much bite into the word – girl.

Her hands balled into fists, but that small movement got Kyra started. Trembling fingers pulled the clingy top up and over her head, and by the time Kyra tossed the garment aside, Sariai's lips had curved ever so slightly into a smile. The older woman waited in expectant silence, arms crossed, so Kyra continued, pulling her eyes away from Sarai to fumble with the button of her jeans, then slowly remove those too.

Peeling the jeans from her ankles nearly left her sprawled across the floor, her balance only saved by a few awkward and decidedly ungraceful hops. The effort finally left Kyra standing before a more or less a complete stranger in nothing but a black bra, nearly sheer if not particularly ornate, and panties of a matching color.

Kyra knew what waited even before Sarai spoke, even as her her shoulders drew together in a poor attempt to shield herself from that piercing green gaze which left her feeling so very inadequate. Slowly Kyra moved her hands to her back, fingers too unsteady to unclasp the bra in one attempt.

The light cloth slipped down her arms, baring small breasts. Only another moment's hesitation and a hasty breath slowed her fingers from slipping underneath the elastic waistband to fully reveal herself. No one had ever seen her completely naked before.

Kyra waited for laughter or a jeering remark, but Sarai remained silent, though her eyes snapped across Kyra's body like an art appraiser examining an unfamiliar work. Though the room wasn't particularly cold, Kyra shivered, her skin dimpling, pale and smooth from over and hour of meticulous shaving.

Sarai circled slowly. "Pokemon like the petite ones," her voice velvet. Two fingers stroked gently across the top of Kyra's small butt, making the younger girl jump and gasp quietly. Only the mention of pokemon reminded Kyra of Zoroark, who watched hungrily from the bed-top, his posture too relaxed, large paws carefully placed so he could pounce in an instant.

A slight blush rose in Kyra's cheeks, skin tingling softly with electric heat. Kind fingers cupped the left side of her face, raising her chin. Their eyes met, Sarai's large and green, freezing Kyra, not giving her the presence of mind to react before their lips touched.

The kiss felt like Sarai, precise and demanding and graceful, leaving Kyra too stunned to do anything but stand there meek as prey. Soft lips ensnared her, drew her in so Sarai's tongue could invade her mouth with tender ferocity. Kyra didn't think the kiss lasted long, but she felt too dazed to be sure, breathless and trembling when Sarai pulled away.

"You're a virgin." Sarai's statement didn't have the inflection of a question, so Kyra didn't feel the need to answer, but her eyes dropping away and to the floor did said as much as words could have.

Sarai didn't sound upset, and not even really surprised, but serious, a bit of the purr leaving her tone. "Instinct isn't a place to test the waters. Pokemon are rarely gentle, girl, and their idea of consent is different than ours. You'll find it hard to back out of something once you realize you're in over your head."

"My name is Kyra," she snapped, adrenaline grinding away her meekness. "And I'm not some stupid kid."

Sarai chuckled, a smile spreading across her features. Her voice dropped back to a playful swat. "I know," and she pat Kyra on the cheek, the same spot the slap had left a bright red hand print the previous night. "Do you want me to hit you again?"

Tension tightened through Kyra's shoulders, already preparing for the blow, though Sarai didn't move. The frightening part was she didn't know how to answer, but eventually mumbled, "If you would like to."

Sarai moved in close again, one hand finding the gentle swell of Kyra's breast, a thumb toying with her pale pink nipple and letting Kyra's pent up arousal burn to the forefront of her mind.

"Aren't you just a wonderful little thing." Sarai squeezed the stiff nipple she'd been teasing between thumb and the side of her pointer finger, squeezing gently but slowly applying more and more pressure. "A little slip of a thing so eager to submit will drive them wild, but they'll devour you if you let them."

Kyra whimpered at the increasing pain, not wanting to beg Sarai to stop. It almost became to much, but as the plea formed in her throat, Sarai relented, receiving a choked wordless cry as reward.

Sarai turned her back Kyra. "Zoroark."

The natural predator poured from the bed like smoke flowing over the edge of the mattress, his movements impossibly graceful, and rose beside his mistress. His sky blue eyes didn't fall upon Sarai, however.

"What do you think of her, my shade?" Sarai leaned into Zoroark, running her hands up his neck to cradle the pokemon's angular muzzle, ruffling his gray fur.

A low growl rumbled deep from Zoroark's chest. His red accented nostrils flared, lips parted just enough to hint at the fangs lining his jaws. No one had ever looked at her like that, with such unrestrained hunger. Most guys didn't give her a second glance. For once she felt desired, and she didn't care it had no emotional basis, no love. In fact, that made it better.

Sarai buried her face into Zoroark's neck, caressing his face. "You'd just love to hurt a sweet thing like her, wouldn't you?" Zoroark did bare his fangs at that. Hard muscle tightened beneath his fur, softening but also emphasizing the graceful lines of lithe power along his arms and legs.

"He can," was all Kyra could manage to say.

"That mouth is going to get you into trouble you're not ready for." Sarai bit Zoroark lightly on the snout. "She's not for you, yet. Play nice." With one last pat on the cheek, Sarai unwrapped herself from Zoroark and walked towards the connected bathroom. "I'm going to dress for tonight." She closed the door behind her.

Sarai's toying left Kyra too off balance for any one emotion to dominate, but now alone with Zoroark, apprehension clawed in warning against the want simmering in her gut. A deep, instinctive part of her brain knew that if she made any move to run, Zoroark would leap on her. She remained utterly still, and Zoroark waited, a patient hunter.

The few trainers Kyra interacted with dismissed her out of hand once they found out she didn't have a pokemon of her own. Most probably thought her too young to even be one. None had ever left her to admire a pokemon up close, and Zoroark looked as impressive and beautiful as Kyra had ever fantasized, even more so, him being such an exotic species.

Sharp red accents outlined his eyes, contrasting with his metallic blue irises. His mane silhouetted his lean body in blood red, matching the large claws at hands and feet. But his eyes, she kept coming back to his eyes as if he had some kind of power to command her attention.

"I don't mind if you-" but she couldn't finish her thought and forced her gaze away. They stood nearly the same height, but Zoroark seemed to loom over her regardless.

That seemed to be enough of an invitation, because Zoroark had a clawed grip on her arm before she noticed him move. Kyra shrank back a little, and Zoroark used that slight movement to force her all the way back against the wall, chilly against her bare skin, and leaving her well and truly trapped.

A trio of claws ran lightly up her belly, threatening, but only pressing hard enough to leave thin red trails along her creamy complexion. His snout pressed towards her throat, but only drew close enough that his hot breath tickled her delicate skin, though Kyra couldn't help but think of his fangs, claws starting to bite at the underside of her right breast. Then he stepped back, not far, not leaving her room for escape, and watched expectantly.

This was what she wanted, wasn't it? Someone, anyone to simply want her, enjoy her. Girl. Maybe Sarai was right, but at least Zoroark could find use in her. Kyra dropped her eyes but used the opportunity to admire Zoroark's lean belly, the slip of pink displaying his obscured arousal.

Kyra knelt not wanting to think any longer, her trembling legs barely able to support her anyway. Zoroark growled in approval but didn't give her any other indication of what he wanted, apparently enjoying her eagerness.

Despite her willing position before him, Kyra couldn't bring herself to immediately attend him and instead brought a hesitant hand to his leg. Fur the color of wet ash felt hot and silky, but bristled if rubbed against the grain. As he had scented her, Kyra hugged herself to Zoroark's hard muscle, arms wrapping around his thigh, and she pressed her face into his hip taking a deep breath.

A subtle musk rose from his hide, sharp and distinct if not overpowering. The scent Kyra now associated with Sarai, a woody and complex perfume, clung to his fur, their combined scent making her head swim. Zoroark scratched the back of her head, sending a shiver through her scalp and down her spine. Kyra's hands wandered, one feeling the firm curve of a muscular rump, while the other teased up the inside of his thigh.

Even if she had no experience, she knew what she was supposed to do in this position, and Zoroark's surprisingly gentle coaxing only reinforced what he wanted. Her fingers found a weighty prize between his legs. Thick fur closer to down than the rest of his coat hid balls larger than she would have guessed. They easily filled her palm.

Claws twitched against her skin just shy of painful, and brought her nose to Zoroark's sheath, letting her feel the hard shaft beneath. Something warm trickled down the bridge of her nose that smelled powerfully of him.

Pressed so close to his body, Kyra couldn't get a good look, but her lips found his tip, sharp and glossy pink. Pre-cum began to flow freely between her lips, and she drank him. Mirror smooth flesh met her exploring tongue, the musky taste of him overwhelming, mixed with a hint of copper and slightly salty.

He swelled, growing thicker, growing from the furry sheath tickling her lips. Kyra brought her hand to him, pulling back the last of his strange anatomy, exposing him. A thick swell waited at the base of his length. Her fingers teased along the small knot lurking beneath his sheath. It took gentle coaxing, but her fingers eventually teased him completely free, his knot giving her a convenient hold, gentle but firm. Zoroark's grinding breath indicated he enjoyed her touch.

Lust hazed her thoughts. She didn't really know what to do now that she had all of him. Her tongue lapped at his tip, enjoying the feel of his constant release, a gentle, liquid pressure that left his taste filling her mouth. His knot would never fit between her lips, but she tried to take him deeper, easing him towards the back of her throat, until she could feel a tickle of unease in her gut.

A spurt caught her off guard, spraying the back of her throat and gagging her. Kyra fought not to cough, and pulled away but a firm grip on her head only allowed her so much reprieve. Tears washed little rivulets down her cheeks, but she ignored them. Desperate breath hissed through her nostrils.

For a brief moment, she simply lapped at the underside of the first inch or so of his tip, letting her fingers hold and tease the base of his knot which now nearly filled her hand. The thought of that inside her instilled a mix of desire and fear. Sarai hadn't lied. He would break her. But she wanted him to.

The grip on the back of her head grew firmer, claws twitching, and the hiss of heavy breath sang to her ears. The gentle pulses that ran through Zoroark's shaft with each spurt surged until she could feel him grow thicker the brief instant before a torrent of his true release, his seed thick and cloying, more bitter.

Zoroark filled her mouth, held her close, but Kyra had no intention of pulling away. It took her a moment to figure out how to swallow with him spreading her lips, and she choked, his seed continuing to pour into her. But she managed, not letting a trickle escape her, reveling in the dense warmth settling in her belly. One of her hands still rest on Zoroark's butt, her fingers lightly digging into tough hide, holding against the small jerks his hips made, knot tugging at her grip, though not hard enough to risk pulling free.

Any thought beyond pleasing Zoroark fled to the back of her mind. This was what she wanted, to serve, to give herself to him. Her knees ached and she gasped for each breath when she could manage, his taste burning her senses raw, and still she wanted him, to be his. The claws biting at her scalp told her she served him well.

Eventually his heavy release thinned back to pre, his shaft deflating, then refusing her even a drop. The soft gray fur of his sheath swallowed the last of his glossy flesh and Zoroark growled, releasing the back of her head and returning to curl up on the bed without a further glance in her direction, his fierce eyes slipping shut.

Kyra slumped back, panting, her eyes glassy and not quite seeing the room in front of her. His taste lingered, heavy on her breath, marking her, letting her bask in him. Zoroark left her untouched, unattended, arousal clouding her mind, a tight electric feeling in her gut she didn't know what to do with. Dampness clung between her legs, announcing her need to anyone who cared to look. Zoroark could probably smell her.

Time seemed a distant thing, and Kyra held her elbows, arms tucked close to her body which now felt cold without Zoroark. The full feeling in her belly didn't let her forget, left her wanting. It wasn't until Sarai stepped into the edge of her vision that Kyra even remembered where she was and scrambled to her feet. She began to try to think of what she should say before noticing Sarai wore as little as she did.

The older girl had beautiful skin, perfectly smooth except for a small patch of neatly trimmed hair, stark black in contrast to her glowing cream skin, between her legs. Her plump breasts perfectly complimented her figure, not too large, but would just overfill a man's hands. A taunting smile curved Sarai's features in a predatory way, not in the least bit embarrassed by her nudity. And why would she be?

Kyra burbled instead of using words, but a fraction of a moment later Sarai had her, pulled close by strong arms and the breath nearly sucked from her lips by a powerful kiss. It nearly sent Kyra to the floor in a heap, but she doubted Sarai would let her fall, tongue claiming her mouth, searching for Zoroark's lingering taste.

Embarrassment and want and fear and a million other electrifying feelings left Kyra shaking. She tried to return the kiss this time, her inexperienced lips moving but entirely overwhelmed by Sarai's dominance, making her feel the girl Sarai kept calling her.

It felt like her mind might actually shut off, surrender completely to Sarai and her intoxicatingly subtle scent, sweet wood and a faint hint of something sharp – grapefruit maybe. A hand brushed the inside of her thigh, a finger finding her dripping center. Kyra whimpered, belly clenching tight, trembling.

Sarai teased her slick flesh with a fingertip, never moving to enter her, just swim in her collecting lust, hinting at but always missing her aching clit. So much anticipation and pleasure nearly turned bliss to pain, her calves cramping, and then it ended. Sarai pulled away looking as calm and collected as Kyra had ever seen her.

Only the wall and a steady hand on her shoulder stopped Kyra from collapsing, lights still swimming through her vision. For a moment she thought she forgot how to breath before sucking in a trio of gasping breaths. Kyra looked up just in time to see Sarai give a wicked grin and bring a glistening finger to her tongue and licked it, tender and slow. Sarai pat Kyra on the cheek.

"I left clothes for you in the bathroom. Get dressed."

"B-But-" Shaking words tumbled from Kyra's lips before her mind was in a coherent place. "I can't, like this." She hiccuped.

Sarai chuckled, already turning towards her armoire, hips swaying with practiced grace. "Get dressed, girl. You have a long night ahead of you."


End file.
